Thursday, January 11, 2024

On Writing

Young men don't have time for memoirs. It is more often the older version of the young man who tries to bring life to a their younger self's story line. As I have not read many memoirs other than my brother's, "just the facts ma'am" story of his life, I have only his style and my own loose dog style to use as examples of what makes a memoir, good or bad.

When I first started writing about my past, I was too young to start a memoir. That effort came at the age of 12 when I wrote an essay in 7th grade English class. I cannot remember my grade or if we were even graded, but I do know I did not impress myself with the effort. It was just a factual rendition of my short life as I perceived it. 

The one or two page effort was full of all the neato, keen, and cool events I had experienced to that point in my life. It was most likely comprised of enhanced tales of tree forts I helped to build, trails I followed in the woods, the kids I liked and the kids I hated. As I remember it now 60 years later, it was writing one would expect from a 12 year old boy. I did not dig deep because at age 12, I had not experienced enough depths to understand they even existed.

I did not stop writing. Over the following years I sporadically wrote stories and poems in notebooks, journals, scraps of paper. Recently I found some of my old scribblings and it amazes me how far my writing has come since those early efforts.. I guess in 60 years I should not be surprised though. Do something long enough I would expect that I would have improved.

Learning to write is the obvious next step after learning to read. At least in my case it was. After taking in so many other's thoughts and ideas, forming my own thoughts and ideas seemed the next logical step.  Writing has helped me come to grips with the realities I currently live in, which I think help me face the Realities still coming. In my mind, being able use words, not just read them, helps create the tools by which to understand what the Hell is going on, even when I am sure I will never have a clue. Writing down my moments of confusion help me to make sense of them.

Confused? Yeah well, live in my head awhile and you still won't understand, even after I wrote the words down. Understand?

I didn't think so.

Keep it 'tween the ditches ................................

__________________

A tune with no rhyme, reason, or tie-in to the post is what I picked today. I pulled up my playlist on the 'puter and like throwing a dart found this really nice, uplifting song from the talent of R Kelly. Never been a fan. Maybe I should rethink that.

Here is "Gotham City" from the soundtrack of one of the many Batman movies.


1 comment:

The Blog Fodder said...

You turned into a pretty fair writer. If you sorted through your on-line ramblings and carefully edited them, you would sure have a readable autobiography.
I enjoy writing, especially if I have to research the subject. Not memoir worthy by any stretch. I'd like to write a book but about what?